Symptomatic
by Silvestria
Summary: Missing scene from 3x04. Mary goes to see Dr. Clarkson about her hay fever.


_A/N: Personally, I really don't think Mary is pregnant in 3x04 but I do think the possibility that she might be or should be would be ever present at least in her subconscious and so I wrote this story. Perhaps she is pregnant? I don't think the story entirely denies the possibility... As _**EOlivet** _said on my LJ, hay fever or cold like symptoms can be very early indications of pregnancy. Who knows! I don't think she is but it's interesting to explore the subtext!_

_Succinimide of mercury is a genuine 1920s relief from the symptoms of hay fever._

* * *

"Do you have an appointment, Lady Mary?" asked the nurse.

"No; do I need one? It won't take long. Is Doctor Clarkson particularly busy this morning?" Mary folded her hands in front of her, a pleasant smile on her face.

"Let me check. One moment please."

Mary nodded and turned away as the nurse disappeared momentarily into the doctor's office. She examined a black and white print of Wakefield Cathedral on the wall without seeing it until the nurse returned.

"Doctor Clarkson will see you now." She ushered her into the room and closed the door behind her. Once Mary had sat down, the doctor leaned forward on his desk.

"Now, what can I help you with, Lady Mary? It's been a long time since I've seen you here, not since your marriage, I believe. That must be four months ago – how time does fly! I hope that-"

"Yes, it has been a long time, hasn't it?" she breezed. "But I understand you have been very helpful to Mrs. Hughes and we are all so grateful up at the house."

"Yes, yes, of course, that is true. I hope she is feeling quite well now?"

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to ask about Mrs. Hughes' health but we have heard no complaints about her from any of the other servants."

Mary pursed her lips, disinclined to discuss the housekeeper further.

"Naturally." He shuffled a few papers uselessly. "And yourself, Lady Mary? It is for yourself that you are here, am I right?"

The bright smile appeared again. "Yes, though it seems terribly trivial now. I have been suffering from hay fever these last few days, you see, and was wondering if you could recommend anything to relieve the symptoms."

"I see. And these symptoms are...?"

Mary stared at him. "Sneezing, itchy eyes, and this morning a sore throat. I think I can trust myself to diagnose hay fever without any help!"

"That is, yes, to be sure. Do you get hay fever frequently then? I'm only asking to rule out the possibility it could be a head cold or-"

"Or a new bout of influenza!" she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "No, I haven't had hay fever this badly since I was a girl and, you know, it is not so bad really anyway."

"And no other symptoms you've noticed? No unusual tiredness, no-"

Mary had begun to twist her hands together on her lap, her fingers tugging helplessly at the leather of her gloves. "I have told you my symptoms, Doctor, as much as they are; would you be good enough to suggest a cure?"

One sharp look at her before he unfolded his hands, refolded them and cleared his throat. "As I'm sure you are aware," he began with the faintest trace of irony in his tone, "there is no easy cure for hay fever. The best solution would be for you to leave the source of irritation for one with less pollen; mountain or sea air are the most favourable localities..." Mary shifted impatiently and he quickly continued, "However, in the mean time I shall give you a small amount of succinimide of mercury which should relieve the symptoms somewhat though I'm afraid I cannot guarantee much success."

"Thank you." She watched him go to his cabinet, pour out some solution into a glass jar, and stir it, the spoon clinking against the sides as he did. He wrapped it in a paper bag and held it out to her when she stood up.

"I hope you are more comfortable soon, Lady Mary, and please do come to see me again if you become aware of any developments."

"What developments do you anticipate apart from a return to full health?" she asked sharply.

He spread his arns out and shrugged. "That is, of course, what I hope will happen very shortly. I meant more generally that I hoped your ladyship would feel able to consult me about anything you were uneasy about."

"That is _why _one visits a doctor, isn't it? Thank you again and good day." She flashed him a brittle smile before leaving the room, her heels clicking noisily on the stones of the hospital corridor.

By the time she had walked home (on the road, avoiding the flowers of the parkland) she realised that she had been breathing very shallowly and rapidly the whole way back, as if nervous or upset in those strange, anxious moments that came before tears. Loss of breath was another symptom of hay fever, she supposed, and slowed her walk before she reached the house, taking deep and steady breaths. She also unclenched her hands from where they had screwed the top of the brown paper bag into a tight, hot wad.

Mrs. Hughes met her in the hall.

"Ah, my lady, I was looking for you. The patterns have arrived and are in the nursery as you requested."

"The patterns?" She had completely forgotten that she had asked Anna that morning to look some out for her plan of redecorating. She and Matthew really did need a sitting room of their own and it was the only room not in use. She covered her momentary lapse with a cough that was not entirely faked. "Oh yes, thank you, Mrs. Hughes. I'll go up directly."

"Yes, my lady."

As she mounted the stairs, her mother came out of the library.

"Oh, there you are, darling. Have you been out?"

"Yes, I went to see Doctor Clarkson," Mary replied absently, her mind already upstairs and debating the relative merits of a sofa versus two armchairs. Perhaps a sofa and one armchair as well? She would have to ask Matthew what he wanted. And he might have an opinion on the colour scheme as well. She supposed that would come first before furniture.

"Oh?" Cora raised her eyebrows. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, it was nothing. If you see Matthew will you tell him to come and find me? I want to talk to him."

"Of course I will. I think he's around somewhere. Where shall I say you are?"

"The old nursery," she replied, continuing on up the stairs. "I'm thinking of redecorating. Thank you, Mama."

Her mother did not reply for several moments but stared after her, her mouth slightly open, until she had gone round the corner of the landing. Then she blinked her surprise away and decided she would make a point of finding Matthew as quickly as possible.


End file.
